Fashion Fairytale
by lyssa0707
Summary: Iwaizumi urgently needs money and while looking for a way to get them she meets her old friend. Could it be the beginning of something new? genderbending; fem!Oikawa; fem!Iwaizumi; Fashion AU


**The moment I saw you**

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**A/N: I decided to start writing again... and this happened. Also, please, forgive me for any mistakes - English isn't my first language, but I did my best to write correctly.**

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Iwaizumi Hajime was walking down the street gripping rumpled leaflet in her rough-skinned hand. She still couldn't hold back a frustrating bark every time she caught a glimpse of the corns and fragile nails. One week trial of cleaning hostels rooms for free only to find out that 'she was not the person they were looking for'. She hadn't even had time to argue, she desperately needed money. Iwaizumi needed a new job as she needed breathing. And her current situation felt like drowning in deep cold water, possibly full of monsters.

The desperation was the keyword when she decided to answer another job advertisement. With the same resignation that was painting on her face, she entered the huge building of a famous (according to the statement on the leaflet, Iwaizumi had never heard about it before) fashion company. As for a good fashion house, the outside of the glass skyscraper looked extraordinary with its huge billboards and rare colors' mixes.

When Iwaizumi stepped through the round glass door she almost threw up with a rainbow. The inside was as fashionable as possible. Expensive furniture, exotic plants, fluffy carpets, funny clocks, and positive slogans in frames screaming at the crowd to stay motivated 24/7. For unknown reasons, every piece of furniture or decoration drowned in turquoise and white combination. And wait a second, was that floor marble? Suddenly she feared to take a single step forward so that she didn't accidentally mess it. Or the carpets.

She was standing like an idiot in the middle of the hall greeted by suspicious glances and nasty smiles of passing her well-groomed workers, every single of them looking more like a model than a statistic employee. Iwaizumi stared at their high heels and undoubtedly expensive bags and then at her snickers, still dirty after that match last week, and her bag filled with new training socks and old dirty training socks. Not the best first impression, she must have admitted.

Not that she had any choice. Her wardrobe permanently lacked elegant clothes, not to mention dresses – satanic inventions – or high heels – from an even deeper circle of hell than the dresses.

Iwaizumi was just about to get out of here with the speed of the light, with the little pride she still possessed, when one of the fancy I-was-prompt-queen-two-years-in-row pointed her out to the secretary, who, very fast considering the fact she was wearing those nightmarish high heels, approached her with bookish "May I help you?"

Iwaizumi mumbled something that was supposed to 'maybe next time, I'll go now' but definitely wasn't it and pointed at the door behind her.

At the exact moment, the secretary noticed the leaflet in her hand.

"Oh! You're here for the job interview!" a professional almost too perfect smile immediately covered the pitiable facial expression. The exact one that was now on everyone's faces, the mix of disgust and disbelief, someone even giggled behind her back.

Had she really had to announce it that loud? Iwaizumi gritted her teeth and stiffly nodded, unable to say anything that wouldn't be explicit.

"Cool! Our main manager is currently on vacation, so you'll talk to the boss herself, lucky you! She's in her studio, that's on the second floor, the celeste door… I'll show you, sweetie." She must have noticed that Iwaizumi had a rather vague image of how celeste color looked like. Green? Blue? Red? Like, what?

The girl followed the secretary pretty sure that not only was she wasting her time but also being an object of a huge joke and humiliation. Escaping now would look even worse, though.

She'd never been to a fashion house before, so now every detail caught her attention. From the pictures of models in the most fashionable costumes of every year, it was easy to track how the trends changed along the time. Not only the style - which back in 30's was dominated by large hats and dresses with collars, followed by, among others, 70's with their flare pants, then miniskirts in combination with suit jacket, to the very brave, though some people would call it indecent, confident costumes with very little material covering the body, or not covering it enough some might call it, design often being exaggerated and impractical, for Iwaizumi for example – but also the models showed the constant evolution happening in the fashion world – from simply slim girls to the super skinny ones.

She took a short look from a couple of contemporary photos to her own body. Long muscled legs with a couple of bruises from the last volleyball match, equally muscled and bruised arms, stomach like a typical stomach after having a whole pizza for lunch – a bit round, and full breast. Yeah, she liked that.

Besides the brief fashion history on the walls, there were tens of people rushing from one studio to another. The photographers and journalists from different magazines, models in fancy dresses, stylists and finally designers themselves. All they flew around Iwaizumi and the secretary like stars and dust in their own colorful galaxy, which boundaries were only limited by their imagination.

Naturally, Iwaizumi received one or two looks of complete confusion, but as they kept going fewer and fewer people paid attention to that one boring grey spot.

It was so weird when the door of the glass lift shut her off from the hustle and bustle of the main hall. The secretary didn't bother to fill the silence with meaningless chatter, for what Iwaizumi was eternally grateful. Further humiliation wasn't necessary, especially if she by a miracle would be given a job here. As a cleaning lady, she would see the secretary almost every day.

But the possibility of getting that job was really low, Iwaizumi wasn't going to lie to herself. According to what she'd seen here, she didn't meet the standards of that place.

She leaned against the cold metal barrier, suddenly realizing how tired she was. The overwhelming atmosphere of that place added up to a couple of sleepless nights and now all she wished for was her bed. The sun was slowly setting behind the glass walls of the lift.

From here she could spot the hotel where it all started three weeks ago. The broken window must have been on the other side of the building because from there she couldn't spot the black tape covering a hole. One unlucky ball during their little volleyball game in the dining room and now Iwaizumi and her friends must have paid for the damage. That was the only reason she was now in that glass lift.

A sparkling sound of the bell announced their arrival. The fifth floor was way less crowded and much quieter from what Iwaizumi witnessed downstairs, but by no means less fancy. Especially with the huge windows from ceiling to the floor. So many windows, so much glass… No wonder they needed a cleaning lady asap. She hadn't had enough time to admire the views, because the secretary already knocked on the door. Iwaizumi cursed internally. Was it too hard for the secretary to simply say 'the fifth floor, the second on the right, blue, the hella big ones' instead of some weird color names?

She took a closer look at the placard. It said 'Design studio no.1' and under it, a handwriting note announced 'Oikawa Tooru always no.1 3'.

She rolled her eyes. Apparently, all Oikawas were the same. Once she had a good friend in the school's volleyball team named the same. If their characters matched as well, then it was going to be the shortest interview in Iwaizumi's short carrier.

"Miss Oikawa! It's me, Ittetsu Takeda! Sorry to bother you, but the candidate for your assistant is here and wants to talk to you." the secretary knocked again.

Iwaizumi's eyes became as big as teapots. She nervously glanced at the leaflet. Weren't they looking for a cleaning lady? But before she could raise her objections, the door opened and a pretty young girl stood in front of them in all her glory.

For a second Iwaizumi wondered if the choice of that particular room for the studio of the director was strictly based on the fact that thanks to its placement the sunrays came directly through the window and now through the door, bathing the posture of the girl in gold light and forcing newcomers to close their eyes and bow their heads as the sunlight blinded them. If so, cleverly thought.

"I hope she's worth it and you're not wasting my time again with an ordinary poor girl capable only of cleaning… That was funny only first five times." the director glanced intensively at the secretary who suddenly got a bit smaller.

Oikawa's voice was, as the name itself, weirdly familiar and reminded Iwaizumi of someone similarly self-confident and determined to get her job done and crush any fool that would disturb her.

Finally, Iwaizumi's eyes got used to the light and she managed to slightly open them. First, she saw a shadowy profile, which sent a shiver down her spine. And when the details of the profile sharpened and exposed round face, tall body, familiar brown hair, and eyes, Iwaizumi's eyebrows shot to the ceiling.

The same surprise could be seen in Oikawa's 'the-actual-friend-from-school-years' shiny eyes.

"Iwa-chan?" – Oikawa Tooru whispered in surprise, intensively blinking. And when Iwaizumi's face instinctively twisted at the nickname Oikawa got her confirmation. "Iwa-chan!" she squealed and without the slightest hesitation pounced on her long time no see friend.

Iwaizumi had to take a step back to regain the balance, rather from surprise than because of the weight, the girl was quite light actually. And she was embracing her tightly around the neck. Too tightly.

"Shittykawa… Let… me… go…" Iwaizumi spluttered.

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**A/N: It was just the very beginning of the story of our pretty girls getting together. Next chapter coming soon. **


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